Legion (saint)
by ShinMarsDragon
Summary: Shortfic collection. No particular theme, stories will be from across the series.
1. Chapter 1

For the first time in hundreds of years, daylight fell on the Forest of Eternal Night. Rinaldo idly wondered what they would call it now. 'Forest of Normal Day and Night' wouldn't suit, but the corruption had laid on this place for too long for any to recall its true name.

It was hard to believe it was all over. His family, that girl, every hunter and victim he had ever met over these past decades...all avenged. He kept checking the small patch of sunlight on the floor, waiting for it to blink away as darkness fell again. It was so neat, so perfect, it felt it couldn't be true.

There was a knock on the door and Leon entered, looking tired and worn. The cursed whip was coiled at his waist and he rested his hand on it without thought. "It's over, then," Rinaldo said, and nodded to the whip. "Hand it over. I think I may be able to undo the spell - or if I cannot, Mathias surely can. Your lady will reach heaven."

Leon made no reply for a long time, simply staring at Rinaldo as if he hadn't heard a single world spoken. Finally he shook his head. "No. That won't...I cannot...I still need this whip, Rinaldo."

"Did Walter escape?" Rinaldo's eye jerked back to the patch of sunlight, so small and fragile. There were other vampires, ones that could surely offer Walter shelter and strength in return for the protection of the Ebony Stone, and should they join forces... He was far too old for this.

"No, no, I killed him. Walter is dead. Your family is avenged, Rinaldo, and I am glad to have had your support in it." Leon hesitated, not meeting Rinado's eyes. "But he was not the one behind all this."

Slowly, the tale came out. Leon's telling was unpracticed and required some backtracking, but in time Rinaldo felt he had a grasp of the situation.

Strange. He had always assumed it would be Elisabetha who would go mad at the death of her husband on some campaign. His impression of Mathias had always been of a man with too clear a view of the world to go to these extremes - ah, but perhaps that was the problem. Mathias only ever saw the world in front of him, and his mind could not find the faith to ask God for support.

"So now I must hunt him down," Leon finished. His tone betrayed nothing of his feelings - neither regret nor sadness tinged his words, just a calm statement of facts. "I just...do not know where to start."

"Go home," Rinaldo said firmly. "Get some rest, take care of any affairs that have cropped up in your absence, inform your lady's family of her death. Then make your plans for the future." Privately, he just wanted to get some time to think. Finding a man was hard enough, much harder to find a vampire that could hide in the forest as a beast until his pursuers had moved on. And the longer they took, the more time Mathias had to prepare...to offer more vampiric souls to the Crimson Stone.

"...sign my lands to my creditors..."

"That's going a little far, don't you think?"

Leon shrugged at the disbelief in Rinaldo's tone. "I don't have the money to pay them. Besides, Mathias will not stay here, so I cannot either. He'll go somewhere he can find other people and learning...not Rome, nor Constantinople...Egypt, perhaps."

"And how will you get to Egypt, then?" Leon started to reply, and Rinaldo held up a hand to stop him. "Let me handle this. I do have some contacts left, even having lived here for so long. The world of alchemy is a small one." It was thanks to Mathias he still had those contacts. How ironic. "I can sell my potions in your lands while you take care of business. Then I will give you the profits, along with a letter of introduction to a certain family in Alexandria. That will be a place to start."

"I cannot thank you enough for all you have done for me."

"Don't speak of it. I'm not offering to come along, you know." Rinaldo settled himself and looked at Leon dead on. "But. Leon, consider what you are doing here. You are going to search whole world for one man, a man that can transform himself into bat or wolf as he pleases. A man that has severed his past as well as you. There is no guarantee you will find him, and no guarantee your child will carry on your duty. Just as likely he will sell the whip to live comfortably. Knowing this, do you still intend to set off on this quest?"

Leon's gaze fell to the table again, and it was another long moment before he spoke. "I have no choice. Your counsel is sensible, and the words of one most likely wiser than I. But consider yourself, Rinaldo," he said and smiled without joy. "Was there any guarantee that someone would defeat Walter before your own life ended?"

"Hmph." Impudent little brat. "Very well. Help me gather up my materials, there's a long walk ahead of us before we'll find any other humans."

"Of course," Leon said, but did not move. He stood there, rubbing his fingers over the cursed whip and watching the new dawn through the window.


	2. Chapter 2

_Before_

"Let me see!" Circe pushed closer and grabbed Marpessa's wrist to more closely examine the ribbon tied there. The rest of the student witches clustered around, all wanting a chance to touch the precious artifact. After all, it was from the human world.

"Careful - Watch it, Hekate!" Marpessa struggled against the press of bodies around her. "Don't rip it, please!"

The other witches backed off a bit at that, but only a bit. Circe kept herself bent over the ribbon, protecting it from the crowd. And twisting Marpessa's arm in the bargain, she noted.

It was a pretty thing, and worth fighting over. Made of fine storm-blue Roman silk with gold thread twisted in elegant designs throughout, it shone in the dim light of their classroom like a jewel. Marpessa was lucky to have it, and twice as lucky to have recieved it directly from the Mistress herself. She had already vowed to never undo the knot the Mistress had made and to keep it on her wrist forever and a day.

"I'm jealous," little Ianthe sighed. "Why do only you get a favour from the Mistress?"

"Because _I_ helped her carry all her herbs up from the forest, and read her recipes from the ancient books, _and_ helped the skeletons pin her dress. This," Marpessa held her arm high after wresting it back from Circe, "is a favour rewarded for long and dutiful service." The rest of the student witches gasped and sighed appreciatively.

"Shouldn't you be studying, instead of circling and chatting like a flock of birds?" Euphrosyne's cold words cut through the younger students' voices like a knife. Marpessa glared at her, furious at both the fact that she interrupted deserved glory and that she was, technically, right.

Euphrosyne shrugged and smiled in the face of Marpessa's anger, as if she did not even notice. "Do you not agree, Marpessa? After all, it is our magic that is our crowning glory, our magic that allows us to best serve Lord Dracula."

Marpressa's suitably cutting reply - even if she wasn't sure what it would be - was interrupted by Penelope calling them all to sit down and prepare for the next lesson and she was forced to walk to her seat still stewing about it. Circe patted her shoulder as they sat down, and Ianthe gave her a little smile. Still, it was rubbing the smooth silk around and around her wrist that calmed Marpessa's heart the most. Euphrosyne couldn't take what that meant away, no matter what she said.

* * *

 _A few days later_

Marpessa kicked off the ground and held her broom steady, focusing on keeping herself in the air as long as possible. "But why shouldn't I go to the human village?" she asked as she started to list to the left and nearly sent herself off her broom overcorrecting. "The Mistress keeps asking for volunteers out of the human-ish monsters, I'm sure she'd be happy to take me."

The bat flying around her head landed on her broom right in front of her hands, and the sudden change in weight sent them both tumbling to the ground. Marpressa glared at the bat, now a boy, sitting carelessly in front of her as she rubbed at her knees. He ignored her as he always did. "I keep telling you, because it's /boring/," he said, as if going outside the castle was ever boring. "You'd hate it."

"Let me decide that!"

He frowned at her, something odd in his eyes. "But it really is boring," he said again, the same tedious reply as the past month.

"So? Who cares if it's boring?" Marpessa felt her patience begin to falter and just barely avoided adding something she'd regret at the end. "Just let me come along. I'll help carry the medicine."

The Young Master kicked out his legs and mulled it over. Stubborn ass, Marpessa thought. She knew he didn't want her coming along for some reason other than the filthy dullness of human villages or he would've given in by now. She just didn't know what the real reason was.

Eventually, when Marpessa was on the edge of shouting at him to get on with it, the Young Master said, "Look, you don't want to come right now. Everyone's sick and locked up in their houses all day, so it's even duller than usual. Once the illness dies down a bit you can come along, all right?"

Marpessa wanted remind him that she could just ask the Mistress directly and he wouldn't have a choice but to let her come, but the same odd look in his eyes made her hold back. He looked worried, which was strange and unusual enough to make Marpessa worried as well. So instead she just nodded and said, "All right. I'll hold you to that."

"I don't know why you're so obsessed with this anyway," the Young Master grumbled as she dragged her broom out from under him. She still needed to practice her flying, and she couldn't do that on the ground.

Once her had her broom back she jumped into the air again and answered from the air, "It's more exciting than being cooped up in the castle all day." The Young Master rolled his eyes at that, but she'd never let him know the real reason. Because Circe and Ianthe and Euphrosyne didn't go. Because the human villages had lovely bits of silk all the way from Constantinople. And her deepest, strongest reason: because the Mistress went to the human villages. Marpessa rubbed at the silk tied around her wrist and grinned to herself, and didn't stop even when she crashed to the ground again.

* * *

 _In the evening_

Marpessa and Circe were playing with the zombies by seeing just how close they could get to touching the rotting heads without actually touching them when it happened.

There was no warning. One moment Marpessa was laughing at Circe for slamming into a zombie in her haste to avoid touching another, the next the Master was there, furious and cursing and it took Marpessa the longest five minutes of her life to realise he wasn't cursing at her.

She and Circe clung together, unable to believe the Master's words. The Mistress, killed. Killed by humans. The village of Rovas had turned on them, had dragged the Mistress out and had her burned to death, had tried to kill the Young Master as well... It couldn't be happening. It couldn't be real.

But the Master smelled of smoke and blood, his clothes smeared with ashes. But the Young Master clung to his side, unseeing and unhearing, his own clothes ripped and coated with dirt.

But the Mistress wasn't with them.

The Mistress, who had patted Marpessa's shoulder and praised her for her spells. Who had smiled when Marpessa brought her a mess of nettles and overlooked her wild hair and dirty feet. Who had encouraged her to fly. Who had never said an unkind word about anyone, who accepted the creatures of the castle more than they accepted themselves, who had ruled over them with judgement and grace...the humans had killed her?

There was no reason for it. There could be no reason for it.

Circe had her head buried in Marpessa's shoulder and was letting out wet, strangled sobs. Marpessa vaguely felt her shoulder becoming damp but she didn't move. The Master was gone but she didn't move. Her legs were becoming numb from the cold stone but she didn't move.

Humans, Marpessa felt, were the most wretched, cruel, loathsome creatures on this Earth.

* * *

 _The next day_

"You go," Ianthe whispered.

Circe agreed. "You two are friends."

Marpessa felt that this was rather overstating the matter, but she also felt it was someone's duty to check up on the Young Master and it might as well be her. She left her friends behind and crept to the door, carefully, silently peeking inside.

It was dark, which she had expected. There was a dark shape on the bed that was probably the Young Master, and so Marpessa moved just a bit nearer. She'd never heard silence this complete before. It felt like emptiness, like she was the only living being left in the castle. She took one last fortifying glance back to the hall and Circe's worried face, then approached the bed. "...Young Master?"

"Go away."

Well. That was a dismissal, and no one would say she hadn't tried. Marpessa took a half step backwards - but the Mistress wouldn't have left, so Marpessa forced herself to stay. "I...I just wanted to let you know, the castle mourns with you, and the Blade Masters are assembling the creatures into troops so- so the Mistress will be avenged, you'll see. I'll help." She straightened up and tucked her broom behind her waist in the proper fashion, trying to speak like an adult. "If there is anything you require, my lord, I will do it."

More silence. She wasn't sure if he'd even heard her. Finally the lump stirred and came upright. Longer after that the Young Master spoke. "Is it...I mean, do you think... Mother would have wanted..." He trailed off after that, and there was another long pause before he spoke again. "No, never mind."

Was that it? Marpessa shifted her weight awkwardly and looked back to the hall. She could leave now, right?

"...I hate humans."

"So do I!" Marpessa realised too late how eager that had sounded and scrambled to recover. "After what they've done...it's terrible."

"Yes." The Young Master seemed to fall back in on himself. "Marpessa...can you keep something in strictest confidence? Hear something and not tell anyone?"

"I know what keeping something in confidence means," she said, and realised too late again that that was a bit too tart. "I mean, of course."

"...I knew there was going to be trouble."

" _What?_ "

"Not- not directly! Just...everyone had turned cold and vicious lately. Even Aunt Zoe snapped at us. I didn't think it was worth bringing to Father, so... But that's why I never let you come along. Because they would have been cruel." While Marpessa was still reeling from this, he continued even softer, "They killed her for being a witch. They tried to baptize me. If you'd been there..."

Marpessa bit back every snappish, angry recrimination. "I'd burn them all!" and "You should have told the Master" wouldn't help here. She felt vaguely proud of herself for realising it. Her hands were shaking on her broom and she felt like she was going to fly apart. In an odd sort of way, it was relieving. The strange numbness was gone, to be replaced with rage and determination. The Mistress had always treated the humans kindly even though they didn't deserve it and paid the price. You couldn't trust humans. The Master would make them all pay, make the rivers and oceans of blood in payment. And she would be there with him.

She reached out to the Young Master, the silk ribbon on her wrist catching the light. Looking at it gave her strength, strength to keep going, strength to avenge the Mistress. "Don't be sad," she said, putting all her newfound power into her words. "You just trusted too much. And now we know their true faces, we won't let it happen again. Not to anyone else. I swear to you."

* * *

 _Three years later_

Marpesssa sailed down the bloodsoaked hallways of the coliseum without ever needing to touch the ground. It was a wonderful feeling, once she never quite grew tired of. On her broom she was weightless, floating, unbound by the earth. She hummed as she flew, unable to stop the delicious feeling of freedom bubbling up in her chest. The worn silk ribbon flapped on her wrist, frayed edges trailing.

The creatures of the coliseum chattered at her as she swept past, friendly and welcoming. A Blade Novice waved and clicked out that he was sure the Young Master was finished with the latest batch by now, and if she wanted a round of her own she'd have to come back later. Marpessa laughed and thanked him, feeling a bit sad about missing her chance but proud of the Young Master for finishing off the latest in record time.

The main arena opened before her and Marpessa called out as she came in, "Hello, Young Master! Finished already?"

The Young Master turned to look at her, movements oddly sluggish. His eyes looked tired and dead and his voice not much better. "Hello, Marpessa. Yes. They didn't put up much of a fight."

It seemed not. The human prisoners were sprawled across the ground with their backs showing, like they'd tried to get away. Only one woman was lying face up, her guts torn out and splattered across the sandy floor. One particularly fat man had his entire back hacked open, white and red mixing in the wounds. More were piled up in pieces, a dismembered arm there, a snapped leg there...the stench was atrocious. Marpessa was more or less used to it after three years at war, but so much of it at once still made her wrinkle her nose up in disgust. Filthy creatures. She brought her legs around and kicked one out in a way she hoped looked charming and not childish as she asked, "Did any of them do anything interesting?"

"Not particularly." The Young Master didn't seem to notice her pose at all, and he wasn't even cleaning his sword as an excuse. "They just died like all the rest." His tone was still flat and disinterested.

Marpessa didn't quite understand it. If the Master had her killing humans all the time, she'd at least try to enjoy it more. It really seemed as if the Young Master was suffering from some sort of imbalance. She floated over to one of the corpses, the one with the slit throat, and kicked the head back and forth as she talked. "Well, at least clean your sword. Kuan Sheng will bloody your hide if you don't."

"Ah." At least he pulled out a cloth to wipe away the blood.

"If you're getting bored with these, ask the Master to bring in some Turkish warriors. I heard they've been sniffing around lately." She kicked with a bit more force and the head popped right off to bounce across the sand. Marpessa enjoyed watching it roll. "I bet those would be a proper challenge for you."

"It doesn't matter. Everyone dies the same."

"Haha! That's philosophical. Or are you saying no human is a challenge any more?"

The Young Master looked at her, face serious. "I'm saying a corpse is a corpse. To me it doesn't matter who they are."

Marpessa leaned back, balancing herself on the narrow broomstick as she considered this. "That's a good thing, isn't it? Should I congratulate you?"

"No." He looked away. "I don't think I'd care even if I killed you, now. That's all."

"Why would you kill me?" Marpessa asked. "I'm not a human. There's no reason for us to fight." Was that what was bothering him so much? How silly.

"We're just for fighting humans...but you remember, don't you? That Mother was human?"

"The Mistress was one of us!" Marpessa snapped. How dare he! How dare he say that! The Mistress was an honourary member of the Witch's Guild, bestowed by Queen Helene herself! "It was the humans who murdered her, though she showed them nothing but kindness! Meaningless corpses are all they deserve to be!"

He just looked at her, expression completely blank. When had he learned to control his face so well? It didn't seem like the Young Master Marpessa remembered. "Well, if you say so, I suppose it's true."

"It is true." She kicked at the corpse some more. "But really, if you're that bothered about it...well, I'll try to show up earlier tomorrow and you can leave it to me instead."

* * *

 _A year later_

"No one's going to come here," Circe said, full of conviction. She was bouncing up and down with her broom, and the constant motion of her flaxen hair was a constant distraction to Marpessa. "We're too far away from the Entrance Hall. The zombies and Axe Knights are going to get all the hunters and we'll just be sitting uselessly in the back."

"It's not fair," Marpessa agreed. Witches were assigned to the upper halls in accordance with their ability to fly, but it meant they never, ever got to kill one of the humans that dared assault the Master's castle. They had fresh air and a lovely view, but no hunters. "I wish, just once, one of them would make it up here. I'd fry them in a second!"

"Are you wishing for the death of our fellow creatures of the night?" the elegant voice floated down from above, and Marpessa grimaced to see Euphrosyne flying down to meet them. As usual, Euphrosyne was nothing but perfectly poised on her broom, legs crossed exactly how they should be, chest forward, hair falling in graceful waves down her back. Circe stopped her bouncing, a guilty expression on her face. Marpessa resisted the urge to smooth out her own tangled hair and just looked coolly at the newcomer. Euphrosyne met her look with a matching one of her own. "Well, Marpessa?"

"I wish to show my strength and skill as a member of Lord Dracula's forces," she said. There. Let Euphrosyne find a problem with that.

Of course she did. "First of all," she said, raising one delicate finger into the air, "you must realise your place among the army. You have only just earned your hat, and-"

Euphrosyne's lovely voice cut off with a harsh, bloody gurgle.

Everything seemed frozen. Euphrosyne had a dagger in her throat. Where had that come from? Hunters didn't come up here! But there was a dagger in Euphrosyne's throat, one that jerked sickeningly as she struggled to breath through the horrible wash of blood. Euphrosyne's hands clawed at it, even as it ripped into her flesh and Circe reached out to stop her-

By some mad instinct Marpessa shoved her away just as another dagger flew through the spot her hand had been. The fiends, attacking them as they cared for each other! Marpessa could see their enemy now, a skinny stick of a man, half naked and clutching a dagger in his rotten teeth. He climbed through the window and flipped to the small platform meant for an Axe Knight, more daggers at the ready.

He took the dagger out of his mouth slowly, savoring their wide-eyed horror. "Here you are, then," he said in a horrible, creaking voice. His eyes burned with madness. "Tell me where your master is, little girls. I have a few words I'd like to say to him."

To Marpessa's shame, it was Circe that acted first. She threw out a scattering of lightning balls, wild and without aim, but it forced the enemy to jump and tumble out of the way. He scrambled up the bare wall with no trouble, like some sort of crawling lizard, quicker than lightning.

But not quicker than Circe. She flew up and up, Marpessa only half a broomstick behind, and pelted the man with more electricity and fire from the height. He threw another dagger but this time, _this time_ Marpessa was ready, her fingers twisting to form an unbreakable shield in front of her and his shot fell harmlessly away. Circe's electricity hit him a moment later, smashing from every direction and sending him reeling. Marpessa gathered light, heat, _flame_ in her hand and flung it out, burning the enemy's flesh right off his bone and that made him fall, tumbling over and over again before he hit the bottom of the hall with a wonderfully final crack.

"Euphrosyne!" Circe cried out as she dived. Euphrosyne had caught up on one of the small platforms that occasionally popped out of the walls, lying broken and small. Her blood pooled beneath her. Her chest still rose and fell with each shuddering, painful breath, but each time was slower. "Euphrosyne! Don't die!"

Marpessa felt numb again. It was obvious to anyone watching Circe's pleas were in vain. That was a fatal wound. Euphrosyne hadn't a chance. It was like the Mistress' death all over again, but now right in front of her. She and Circle gathered around Euphrosyne, petting her hair, saying soft, soothing things, hoping they could- could- could ease her passing.

Monsters weren't supposed to die. Humans died. Not them.

Euphrosyne shuddered one last time, bled one last gout of blood that covered Marpessa's hands with gore and stained her ribbon brown and black, breathed one last pathetic, gasping breath.

Marpessa didn't know why she was crying. She hadn't even liked Euphrosyne. She just couldn't stop.

* * *

 _400 years later_

Marpessa idly floated around the Floating Catacombs, letting her foot trail across the broken brick and watching it crumble. Guard duty was dull, but she told herself for the hundredth time it was important. Shaft's idea of using a Belmont to guard the castle had failed - of course it had, Marpessa didn't know why the Master bothered with the stupid priest - so now they had to protect the Master. As soon as whoever had done it would get here.

Somewhere above her Ianthe yawned.

Marpessa tucked another bit of hair under her hat and dropped down a bit to look at the entrance. The red light was giving her a headache, and she didn't like this Galamoth who'd taken over. She hoped the Master would awaken soon and send him away. But until then, her duty was just to float here and wait.

A noise. Heavy footsteps past the gaping door.

Marpessa sat upright on her broom, ready for the hunter. If they had come here, then Circe and Kore were already dead. Her hands clutched the broomhandle. She'd avenge them.

A shadow detached itself from the mass about the entrance and stepped into the glaring light, and Marpessa was surprised to find that she recognized the hunter.

The Young Master - no, he was too old now, Master...he called himself Alucard now for whatever stupid reason - Master Alucard looked at her calmly. He'd grown up fairly handsome, Marpessa allowed, but his hair had been bleached to an awful-looking blond. He seemed to have been washed out entirely. His sword rested comfortably in his hand.

They stared at each other for awhile, neither wanting to move.

It was Master Alucard who spoke first. "Marpessa, stop. This isn't what Mother-"

That broke the spell over Marpessa as well, and she drew herself up to glare at the traitor, the bastard son of their Master, Circe's killer. "But I will not," she replied, voice ringing with righteous determination. "They killed the Mistress, didn't they? This is war."

She raised an elegant hand, the tattered silk ribbon fallen away centuries ago, and gathered electricity in her palm.


	3. Chapter 3

"Sister?"

Stella looked up from her fencing manual, a bit surprised. Her sister usually considered interrupting someone while they were reading the gravest sin. This had to be a matter of great importance. "What is it, Loretta?"

"We...weren't born here, were we?" Loretta's teeth worried at her lip. She looked frightened to even ask the question.

"No, of course not. This is Castle Dracula, which our father has claimed for our own. You know that, you helped with the spells."

"I did?" Loretta's face openly showed surprise, but it was quickly smoothed away. "That's right, I did. I helped set up the hyperspatial split that keeps Dracula contained."

Odd that she forgot that. At the time she hadn't been able to shut up about the cleverness of her spell. Stella had been one the edge of getting one of the Persephones to dress up as her and just nod along with everything her sister said. "Was that all?" Stella asked. "I was in the middle of studying this."

Loretta didn't say a word, but the look on her face spoke volumes. There was still something bothering her, or Stella didn't know her sister. And there was no one who knew Loretta better than Stella. "Come on, out with it. Let your sister help."

"It's just that I remember coming here," Loretta said, slowly. "It was to help Father, wasn't it?"

"That's right. Even though he said it was dangerous and we should stay behind, we came anyway. He was angry at us, and we had to stay in our rooms for a week-" Stella still bristled a little at that, no matter how right Father was to punish them for such disobedience "-but in the end he needed us."

Loretta's face smoothed out again. "And we were born in Hungary, just before the war. I remember."

That made Stella pause. She didn't remember much of their early life, but she felt sure it wasn't in Hungary. She remembered a long, long ocean voyage to get...somewhere. But they had to have been born in Hungary, that was where Father was from. But there wasn't an ocean between Castle Dracula and Hungary, so shouldn't she be remembering a train ride?

All these memories gave her a headache. Of course they were born in Hungary. It was silly to think otherwise, as silly as doubting Father was their father, or Loretta her sister. "It doesn't matter where we were born anyway. We're here now, all safe and sound, and that's what matters. Let the humans wage their little war, we don't need to worry," Stella said. The final word, as far as she was concerned.

Loretta hesitated just a shade too long in agreeing with her, but eventually she nodded. All they needed was each other. That's what being a family meant.


	4. Chapter 4

He floated in like a bite of cold, a gust of wind, a soft fog. Like the night itself. The room hadn't changed since his last visit. He hadn't expected it to. The same desk, the same worn map, the same books, the same large bed...the same slight, broken figure of a man.

The man's eyes flicked to Walter as he approached, but that was his only acknowledgement. The man stayed silent, his breathing steady. Perhaps he thought Walter would go away if ignored, like a common servant.

He was wrong. "Hello, knight," Walter said, soft and gentle.

"Greetings, Walter, Master of the Eternal Night," the knight replied. He gave up on his pretense and struggled to sit up, body clearly unused to the strain. "What...brings you here? Did you find it so troublesome to take one defenseless maiden from her bed that you had to complain to me about it?"

So weak he could barely even rise from his sickbed, and the stupid man still taunted Walter. It was amazing. A frail body this one might have, but such a bold spirit was worth keeping around for a few days. It would make things all the sweeter when Walter betrayed him.

"It was no trouble at all. She was exactly as you promised, and her betrothed has set off as well. It promises to be a most amusing game."

"Yes, I heard...a week ago, when it happened. What brings you here now?"

Walter leaned closer, close enough to smell the man's sickness, the melancholy spread black and bilious through his blood. His dead breath stirred the man's hair as he spoke. "I simply wondered," he let his hand rise and gently encircle the man's neck, fingertips just barely brushing the skin, "if you felt the slightest bit of guilt for your part in this."

"Ah yes, such guilt I feel for a thing I so carefully planned and worked for." The man's voice was tired as usual, too much to detect the slightest hint of true emotion. He didn't appear to even notice the hand ready to snuff out his now-useless life.

"The maiden swears you will rescue her alongside her betrothed. Her faith is like a mountain, strong and deep."

"And she will see where that faith gets her." There, definite bitterness in the man's tone. It felt like a victory.

Walter smiled. "You say that, and yet..." He let his hand draw closer around the man's neck, until his fingertips pricked with small, sharp spots of pain. "...you have not yet abandoned your faith either."

"Practicality. You are a vampire." The man raised his own hand to Walter's wrist. "But perhaps you are right, when this is over I will confess and go to live as a monk, praying each day for the mercy and forgiveness of God." Walter drew his hand away, mindful of the burns. Sleeping with both crucifix and rosary? The man never did let down his guard. Walter was almost insulted at the slight. He'd sworn not to harm the man until this was over, and he fully intended to keep that promise.

It was after the end the man should be worried about.

"Is that so," Walter said, not bothering to make it a question. "Well, I look forward to it. A guilty conscience stirs the mind towards God, I believe. After all, were not some of the holiest saints former sinners?"

The man let his hand drop in silence.

"But it occurs to me," Walter continued, "A brilliant man. A ruthless man. The kind of man who would send his dearest friend into a trap baited with his beloved..."

"Yes?"

It was tipping his hand. Walter couldn't bring himself to care. There was nothing more Mathias Cronqvist could do to influence events now. He leaned forward again, whispering directly to the man's ear.

"You'd make a fine vampire."


	5. Chapter 5

"So," Grant said as he and Trevor walked through the shadowed forest, "what will you do after this?"

"It's too early to think of that," Trevor replied, aiming his whip at one of the demonic owls that had been harrying them the entire way. The beast fell to the ground with an unnatural shriek, replaced immediately with another of its brethren. "Focus on surviving your next step."

"Nonsense. Without a future, why fight at all?" A thrown dagger caught the new owl in the chest and it fell as well.

"That others may have one."

"Everyone I would want a future for is already dead." Grant's voice turned sharp for a moment that passed as soon as it came. "So I must look forward to my own, yes? For all of of them as well."

"If my former jobs have taught me anything, there is a reward for work well done."

"A reward? Even better!"

"It's generally getting chased out of the village and having to sleep under a tree."

Grant gave Trevor a long look. "Didn't think you had a sense of humour."

Trevor laughed as he struck down the latest owl. The trees were starting to break up, heralding the end of the cursed forest, and the moonlight slowly overtook the flickering torches. Both the men breathed a bit easier to get out of the darkness.

"It is true, though," Trevor continued after a bit. "Those with our abilities don't fit within humanity. To them, we're the same as the monsters we hunt."

"'We'? Who's 'we'?" Grant muttered to himself. He was a pirate, not a vampire hunter, no matter what he was currently doing. Louder, he said, "Really? No grateful brewers with too much ale? No appreciative farmer's daughters? Nothing?"

"Weeeeell..." Trevor rubbed his chin as he stared through the thick mist they found themselves in. Faint lights up ahead indicated something was there, but it was impossible to tell what. "There have been some farmer's daughters."

"That's what I like!" Grant squinted at the lights and unerringly threw a dagger that hit with the familiar sound of steel on bone. Bone Dragons. They both crept forward, on the lookout for balls of flame. Grant's only concession to the danger was to slightly lower his voice. "A lovely lass and a good mug of ale at the end is almost enough to justify all this nonsense. Not to mention all the treasure we can carry."

"It's probably cursed," Trevor said, with amusement in his voice. "Vampires have better security than ordinary lords."

Grant waved off his concerns and sent another dagger at the Bone Dragon, crumbling it to dust. "So we'll take it to a priest. Gold will overcome many prejudices, let me tell you. We won't be sleeping under any trees at the end of this, I won't allow it."

"Oh don't worry, I won't let you sleep under a tree either." A raven with glowing red eyes fell to Trevor's whip and he gave Grant a lazy smile. "The tree is mine; you can have the rain."

Grant's only reply was to punch him in the side.


	6. Chapter 6

"What will you do now, my lord?"

Mathias considered his new servant's words. He had no reason to return home. He'd taken the book of alchemy and his sword with him when he'd left. No need for provisions, fresh water, a tent, or even a horse.

All the things he spent years worrying over, every tiny detail he needed to consider when planning a campgain...all irrelevant to a vampire.

He laughed with the freedom of it. No obligations, to God or man! Nothing, no one to hold him back!

"I know not. Come Death, let us see what we shall find."

* * *

"What will you do now, my lord?"

Mathias - though he thought of himself less and less by that name - considered his faithful servant's words as he paced down the mountain path. He'd studied alchemy in the mountains and valleys of the east, and seen more than any could in the span allotted by God. He studied, he gained in power, and he studied yet more. The mysteries of creation unfolded before him, beautifully alluring.

He was tired of it.

Researching alone, without Elisabetha by his side, was empty.

"Let us head back west, Death. Perhaps there will be something there."

* * *

"What will you do now, my lord?"

Mathias - but more called him Dracula nowadays - felt the most recent vampire's soul become power and tried to think of an answer for his friend. He had striven all his life for something greater than himself, and it all came to this.

Endless days, each like each other. He rose, he killed whichever vampire or human wanted to kill him this day, he slept. Research had lost its allure centuries ago. Power had faded shortly thereafter. It was all meaningless. He'd sacrificed everything for an eternal, empty future.

"Nothing. There is nothing left."


	7. Chapter 7

Alucard sipped the wine from the back of the confessional and stared at his rough, scribbled map. The fallen Belmont was in the throne room at the top of the keep; it would be a simple matter to end this entire charade right now. But...

It was not that he believed it was impossible for Trevor's line to fall so far. In many ways it was easier to believe that than that every single man for the past three centuries had been happy to stand alone as a bulwark against Dracula's evil. He knew not the reason why this Belmont had lost his way, and it was not his job to care. He was simply here to destroy the castle.

It was the castle that was the problem. It lavished gifts upon him: swords perfectly fitted to his hand, armour that required no adjustment to his frame, more food than he could eat, precious magics that always let him progress. It was if he was expected.

There was but one law to the chaos: the castle answered only to its master.

The Belmont had neither knowledge nor motive to give Alucard this surfeit of gifts.

To add to the mystery, there were places the castle clearly did not want him to reach. Though it granted him passage eventually, it was reluctant, the methods obscure and hidden past dark corridors he had already explored. He'd made the map in desperation, in a bid to recall all the places barred to him until he had some extra trick or spell.

He'd uncovered many of them, but was no closer to unraveling the mystery. He tapped at the map, trying to learn where he could go next. He'd raked the catacombs and caverns thoroughly, bribed the old librarian until the man acquiesced to correct the map of his domain, and circled the clock tower for hours. Nothing.

A note caught his eye. 'Spikes - blue door' It marked a passage near him, and at last he had armor strong enough to withstand spikes. He'd had a way through the enchanted doors for ages. But anything hidden so thoroughly must be valuable indeed.

Alucard did not smile as he tucked away his map and prepared to leave, but he considered it.

The spikes were easily turned away. The door opened to his touch. Beyond there were more spikes, followed by a grate only mist could pass, and it was hard to tamp down a feeling like eagerness as Alucard opened the final door. The castle /did not want/ him here. Therefore, what was here must be the key.

Inside there was but a table, two chairs, and...the hunter girl? Mary - no, Maria - was looking out a window at the grey skies, tapping one foot and humming. There was no other way into the room but the way Alucard had came. He looked behind him, just in case. Spikes, a grate, more spikes. The girl had no armor. How...?

"It's you again," she said, and Alucard had to jerk his attention back. It seemed she'd noticed his presence. "Did you-"

"How did you get here?" he interrupted.

"How...?" Maria looked confused, then amused. "With my legs, of course. You might be strong, but you're not skilled at navigating the castle, are you?" She kept going while Alucard resisted snapping at her that he had grown up in the castle and certainly knew more than some human child. "You have to be quick, and notice all the details. But that's not important right now. Did you find anything about Richter?"

He told her, and of course she didn't believe him. She shoved past him in her haste to leave, as if mere will would bring the Belmont back to the path of righteousness.

It was after she left that it occurred to Alucard to turn around. The grate was right behind him, surely she could not pass it...?

The hunter girl was gone as if she had never been.

Alucard stared after her for five minutes before he thought to search the room for something - anything - more useful.

There was only a small golden ring with a ruined inscription.

He cursed and sat down at the table to look at his map again.


	8. La Petite Mort

Soma gripped his sword and got ready to charge on signal. They were almost through the castle, right in front of Dracula's throne room, but that didn't change a thing. He and Alucard would go in first and occupy the monster by stabbing it a lot, while Maria ran interference and Charlotte charged up her biggest magic spell. It was a strategy that hadn't failed...yet.

The ruffling of pages behind him stopped, and Charlotte gave her crisp "Ready". Out of the corner of his eye he saw Maria give a big thumbs-up, while Alucard just tensed. There was a silent count to three and they jumped into the throne room.

Soma skidded to a halt two steps after he'd started.

Dracula was there. That was an expected problem. The _unexpected_ problem was that he wasn't alone. The was a rather - correction, very - pretty blonde woman perched on his lap, and they were...occupied. With each other, mostly.

Under most circumstances, Soma would probably try to rescue a woman in that position. Beautiful young woman, terrible vampire lord, there was a script. But Soma didn't think helpless damsels usually reacted to assault by throwing their arms around their attacker's neck and trying to suck their faces off with enthusiasm bordering on aggression.

No, wait, that was definitely an aggressive attempt to lick Dracula's tonsils. Wow. Damn.

Soma took a moment to lament the face that his horrible evil monster preincarnation was getting way more action than he was.

 _Way_ more. Dracula's hand was up the woman's long black skirts, which seemed to suit her just fine, judging by the happy, breathless noises. And she moved on to his neck, which, wasn't that backwards? But it sure made Dracula happy and shit, Soma didn't really want to see his preincarnation come. That was just awkward.

He was just figuring out how to switch his frozen legs from 'full speed ahead!' to 'retreat!' when a hand grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and forcibly threw him out of the room and right into Maria. Who, on being smashed into by a boy twice her height and mass, fell backwards right into Charlotte. Who didn't have anyone to break her fall, so she went right down to the floor. Which meant Soma and Maria no longer had anyone to break _their_ falls.

Soma spat Charlotte's hair out of his mouth and tried to look at it philosophically. Good boots were important in a demon castle. The fact that Maria's were currently jammed right into his kidneys just showed how tough they were. Charlotte's book digging into his stomach probably meant something too.

Alucard was still on his feet, because of course he was. The bastard.

Maria wigged her way out of the pile, and Soma was sure she didn't mean to keep kicking him in the process. Probably. Hopefully. Either way she was the first on her feet, and the first to find the breath to speak. "What's wrong? Aren't we going to fight the bad man?"

"Uh...he's busy. We'll have to come back later," Soma said, dragging himself to his feet. He wasn't going to be the one to explain what was happening inside the throne room to a 12-year-old. The internet could take care of that one. Maria didn't have the internet in her time? So much the better.

"Busy?! What are you talking ab-" Charlotte was cut off mid-rant by a high yelp followed by a lot of laughter, including some distinctly feminine giggling, from the throne room.

Alucard shut the doors, turned around, and stared in the middle distance in the way Soma was beginning to understand meant he was deeply, horribly embarrassed.

"Well." Charlotte was blushing so hard she almost glowed in the dark. "Well, that's...that shouldn't be there, I mean, that's not in any of my books and we're in a book, so...that shouldn't be happening!"

"Explain that to them," Soma said with a shrug, before jerking back from the glare Charlotte gave him and raising one hand in defense. "Well...it's there! She's there, whoever the hell she is. We have to deal with it. Yeah, it's weird for this book, but you're the one that knows about books!"

Charlotte sputtered. "It...well... We're in a book, about the...the defeats of Dracula, so...he was laid low by love?" She looked distinctly uncertain about this conclusion.

Soma and Maria looked at each other, then at Alucard, who was still practicing his 1000-yard stare, then back at each other. Finally, Maria spoke up, confusion written across her face. "I thought the book was about the _deaths_ of Dracula."

"Yeah, me too. Something something deaths something something heroes throughout time, right?"

Charlotte blushed even harder, if that was possible. "Defeats! It was definitely defeats!"

Soma and Maria looked at each other again, both looking distinctly skeptical. "I'm...pretty sure it was deaths," Soma said, again.

"Defeats!"

There was another high-pitched, _extremely pleased_ cry from inside the throne room.

Alucard finally finished rebooting and strode past them all in an overly-dramatic swirl of jacket and cape. "There's nothing for us here. Come. I saw wine barrels a floor down."

That was all the argument Soma needed. Alucard was a high-handed, cold-hearted, stick-in-the-mud most of the time, but he had one redeeming quality: a medieval attitude towards minimum drinking ages. Soma trotted along after him, Charlotte alongside and Maria running to catch up with their long legs.

"But seriously," Soma said, slowing a bit to let Maria join them, "it's a book about the deaths of Dracula, isn't it? She didn't look like death was on her agenda back there."

Charlotte just clutched her own book and walked faster.


	9. Chapter 9

It wasn't even noon and Soma had a splitting headache. He'd passed out, woken up somewhere completely different, and now some asshole in a suit was snapping at him.

The weird part was, the asshole in the suit looked kind of...familiar, in a way Soma couldn't quite place. Which was weird, because he didn't really have much contact with men in that level of fancy tailored suits. (It wasn't weird to notice. He might not be able to pull one off for a decade or so, but Soma had _aspirations_ , dammit.) But something about the expression, the eyes...it nagged.

Asshole in a suit had stopped talking and seemed to be waiting for a response. What had Mina said his name was...? "Uh...Mr. Arikado?" That felt even more familiar. He'd met someone named Arikado before, or something like it, and it was not that common a name. Sounded fake, actually. "Look, before I answer your questions...have we met before? I've just got this weird feeling tha-"

There was a sword in his chest.

"-I know you...what?"

He hadn't even seen Arikado move. One second he was five meters away, the next he was right there and Soma had a sword in the chest.

It didn't hurt. Or it did, but...it was shock. Mina had explained this to him once. It was shock from being run through by someone he'd literally just met.

God, but he was mostly upset about his jacket. The shirt was a cheap rag from Uniqlo, but the jacket was over 150,000 yen. He'd saved and begged for years for it and it was impossible to get bloodstains out of white fabric.

Mina was screaming and no, Soma was actually mostly upset about that. He never wanted to hear her scream like that again.

Oh. Right. He never would.

He distantly felt like he should be screaming himself right now, but something in Arikado's eyes made him want to face death with dignity. The weird familiar feeling told him, in no uncertain terms, that he was not supposed to add to Arikado's grief by whining about it..

"I am sorry," Arikado was saying, so softly Soma could barely hear. "But I cannot risk it. Not with you. Please, just rest. Forever."

That made sense. And it was all right, even if Mina was still screaming. He wanted to comfort her, say he was just going to see an old friend he hadn't seen in years and missed terribly, even if he wasn't entirely sure who the old friend was. But his body didn't seem to work right.

He collapsed slowly, in stages. By the time his head hit the stone, the familiar darkness was there to welcome him home.

* * *

Probably the nicest explanation for Alucard's extremely transparent disguise is that he's testing Soma so he can do...well, this.

But we all know the real reason is that he's lazy and bad with cover names.


	10. Chapter 10

Lisa was practicing the basic steps of an alchemical healing potion - boil water, stir salt in with the left hand, add a mixture of holy blood and galtite, let cool - and trying to think of a solution to the fishmen and frozen shades' endless argument over who had rights to which parts of the lake when something bumped into her ankle.

She sighed and reached down to dislodge the fleaman/Medusa head/ghost/severely confused bat, and wasn't quite sure what to do when her fingers found long, soft fur instead. She looked down in confusion to see a tiny wolf cub looking back at her, tongue lolling out and tail wagging like a dog. The cub's eyes were bright and intelligent, his fur neat, well-kept...and bright blue. With tan along the paws and belly.

Lisa looked past him to the door, where a truly massive wolf, easily up to the chest of a man, waited. That one's fur was mingled black and blood red, except for the delicate rose pink of his belly and four long socks. As she watched he sat down on his haunches and gazed off into the distance with a clearly affected air of aloof unconcern.

The cub butted her hand and yapped twice. She patted vaguely at his nose, more concerned with her potion now the mystery was solved. It was at a delicate stage and she hadn't quite mastered it yet. The cub responded by grabbing her index finger and gnawing on it with tiny, sharp teeth.

Lisa grabbed her hand away and smacked him on the head. "No, Adrian! No biting!"

The wolf popped out of existence as soon as she hit him, leaving a small human-appearing boy in its place. He barely seemed to notice the reprimand, letting his excited words tumble out of his mouth so they overlapped. "But Mama! You weren't looking! I did it! I turned into a wolf!"

"Yes, I saw and you did a wonderful job, but no biting." Lisa glared at the gigantic wolf with a look meant to convey 'help raise your child'. He gave her a cool, unconcerned look in return, but did growl and come over to bat at the boy's head...to little effect. The wolf shrugged and poked his nose at Lisa's potion instead.

"Be careful, dear, that's meant for the village," Lisa said. Her husband snorted, but left the cooling potion alone. She scratched him behind the ears, because it made his tail wag, and it pleased her to know she was the only human who had ever seen the vampire lord so.

In the meantime their son had not run out of enthusiasm. "And look, I can do a bat too-" Adrian screwed up his face in concentration until his form shifted, wavered, and became a large, black bat with delicate leather wings...and the head of a boy, which grinned at Lisa in triumph.

It would be horrifying if it were not so absurd. Lisa patted him on the head for the effort anyway.


	11. Chapter 11

This was in the original idea for Tangled Up Gears, but ended up not fitting in with the story. Still, I wanted to write Dracula and Sara having a chat and lay out some of my ideas about the VK, so here we are.

* * *

They left the whip in the alchemy laboratory. It wasn't much of a joke, but one took one's amusements as they came, these days.

Dracula went to see her one day.

The whip laid on the floor beneath a table with a large, smoking hole in it. It radiated rage and hatred like a bonfire, a furnace, the sun itself. Dracula knelt beside it, taking one knee to the floor, and reached out with one hand. His fingertips smoked and charred in less than a second.

He withdrew his hand and watched.

The maid's spirit watched back, coiled and ready.

There had been a time when he had nearly forgotten her. When his life was empty, when it was filled with love, when all he had left was rage. Soon he might be allowed to forget her again. But...but first, he had sworn.

"So, this is how it ends," he said, casual as if they were still sitting in his former hall, chatting over wine. "The Belmont is corrupted. He will never be able to properly wield you again, and that sin will pass to his descendants. Leon was wrong."

The maid's spirit blazed so brightly he could almost read the words she would say, had she still a voice. _It is not yet over, vile creature. Not as long as I exist._

"Yes, about that." He watched the flames dance, the scent of holiness filling the air. "I swore to my wife - my second wife -" because the maid would remember Elisabetha, they had been friends, of a sort. It showed Elisabetha's generosity, because of course she was generous. He had loved her, after all. "- that I would free you."

The flames halted. Fury gave way to suspicion, underlaced with true fear.

"It is possible," Dracula said, and let his mouth fall into a wolfish smile. "Though I am the last person capable. Only I have the Book of Alchemy and its forbidden secrets. Only I know that you still inhabit the whip. Only I can allow you heaven."

 _How dare you? I... I will not allow you to try! I will see your end first!_

"It unfortunately requires your cooperation." A pity, that. But if he had the ability to destroy the whip anytime he pleased, she would already be with Leon. "But know you this: the Belmonts are lost to you forevermore. Leon's vengeance can no longer be attained. You may stay here, trapped and suffering in the name of those who have forgotten you, or you may yet see Leon and Elisabetha again. Is this not a gift?"

He was not sure how mocking he meant that question to be.

 _I refuse your tainted gifts._ The flames returned, though lower than they had been.

That was that. Lisa had only made him promise to try. She had been so kind, accepting him even after he told her of his first wife, of his plan to be reborn from the souls of vampires. Even after all that she had embraced him. Her only concern was "poor girl who sacrificed herself", and he had been happy enough to swear on his love for her that he would attempt to save the maid, should he ever re-encounter the cursed weapon.

She had been the best of all women.

But that had all been before. Before the humans, before the fire, before the blood and ashes that forever coated his hands.

Dracula reached out again, thoughtful. This time his fingers brushed the braided leather before they burst into flame. He did not withdraw his hand. He was used to this pain.

"They are all in heaven, and we are here, you and I." Dracula watched as the holy fire ran up fingers to his hand, almost to his wrist, powered ever by the maid's rage, hatred, and agony.

 _And as long as I am here, you will be defeated. Even if we must continue until Doomsday._

"I have no doubt you will try," he agreed. Even with the Belmont corrupted, even with the Vampire Killer in his hands, Dracula was not so foolish as to declare his final victory. This was but another step in the circular, bloody dance they were both caught in.

The pair left to rot upon the earth while their loves waited in heaven.

How horribly alike they had become.


	12. Chapter 12

Mina had always expected Dracula's castle to be a bit more exciting. Or maybe it was, if you weren't stuck at the entrance. Alone.

It wasn't that she envied Soma, especially not when he came back limping and bruised, but...it had been hours, she had forgotten her phone and portable VR glasses, and there was only so long you could watch bats fly past without going a little bit mad.

"Miiiiiiiiiinaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!"

Mina automatically turned to look, then blinked a few times in confusion. Soma didn't look hurt at all as he trotted up to meet her with a big dumb grin on his face. That wasn't normal at all.

"Hey, guess what?" he said when he got to her, panting a little with the exertion. "I was going through the library, and, uh-"

"You brought books?!"

"Er, no." He scrambled to continue on seeing her expression. "They were all in some language I didn't recognize. English letters, but not English. I dunno. But I did get a soul and I think you'll like it. Tah-dah!" He held out his hand, made a dramatic pass over it with the other, and all of a sudden he was holding a kitten.

Which promptly snarled and scratched Soma's hand until he dropped it, whereupon it ran up the nearest statue and looked down on them, still spitting and hissing.

"Ow." Soma rubbed at his hand with a rueful look on his face. "Sorry, Mina. But hey, cat! You like cats, right?"

After so many years together, Mina had thought she was used to her friend's weirdness. But no, this was a whole new level. "The cat is terrified, Soma! What did you _do_ to it?"

"Nothing! I swear!"

Blatant lies, but ignorable ones. Mina slowly walked over to the statue, keeping her eyes on the little kitten the entire time. The kitten returned the favor.

"Here, kitty, don't be scared," she said as she held out one hand. "I won't hurt you. Neither will that doofus over there. It's all right now, don't be scared. Soma, do you have any meat?"

"No, sorry. Actually, I should probably get going, unless Arikado stopped by since I last came."

"Nope, not a peep. Be careful out there, okay?" Mina kept her hand held out, even as she turned her attention away from the cat. It wasn't good to crowd.

Soma waved as he ran off again, and Mina resisted the urge to tell him to be careful again. He was still alive, wasn't he? It would be fine. If she kept telling herself that, it might be true someday.

At least she had something she could deal with on her own now. Mina turned her attention back to the kitten...just in time to see it explode and leave a scrawny young girl clinging to the statue. She glared at Mina.

"Wha- Are you the- ow!" Mina cried out as the girl swung her broomstick at Mina's outstretched hand, giving her a nasty crack on the knuckles.

"Death to intruders!" the girl shouted while still swinging her broomstick around. Mina retreated, holding her hand.

That seemed to satisfy the girl, who launched herself off the statue with her broomstick. She floated along for a few seconds, just long enough for Mina's jaw to drop open in wonder, before she dropped out of the air and smashed into the ground.

"Are...are you all right?" Mina asked, edging a bit closer.

"Death to Lord Dracula's enemies!" The girl popped up again, waving her broomstick, before sprinting off. She had an odd, hopping gait, and Mina suspected she'd at least scraped her knee in the fall.

Mina stared after her. She had to admit, that hadn't been boring.


	13. It's Mutual

Soma stretched out his legs to rest on the coffee table in front of him and checked his phone for the tenth time in as many minutes. Mina's last text, "I'll be there in five!" remained the last word in their conversation. For the tenth time, Soma clicked away and checked the news (boring), his other text conversations (no updates), a game (boring _and_ pointless), his required reading for the day (it was too damn early for homework), and finally let his phone drop to his lap with a deep sigh.

The lounge was sparsely populated with students and a few professors going about their daily tasks. A couple of people Soma thought were in the anime club were hunched over in the corner, deep in a discussion that involved a lot of flying pencils. Next to them was some girl working on a robot model, and another guy trying to take a nap in his textbook. It didn't feel worth it trying to talk to any of them when the couch was so comfy and Mina should be along any minute.

Someone dropped onto the couch next to him and Soma turned, glad to have a person to talk to. He paused when he saw what they were doing.

Two people, a guy and a girl, were untangling an massive rat's nest of cables from a portable screen and some sort of black rectangle. Soma sort of recognized them - he was pretty sure the girl was in his math class, at least, and he'd seen her with the guy a couple times - but didn't know their names or what the hell they were doing.

Eventually they less got the cables untangled so much as found the right ends and left the rest and turned the screen on. The rectangle - old game console? - made a loud whirring noise that seemed somehow pained. The girl patted it comfortingly. A logo popped up on the screen, with a monochrome, animated background.

Soma tried to look while not looking like he was looking. He failed.

The guy looked over at him, eyebrows raised. "Hey. We're not bothering you, are we?"

"What? No! Just...curious." Deciding that permission had been granted, Soma shifted over to get a better look at the screen. "What're you doing?"

"Setting up the PS2," the girl said, then clarified, "It's an old game console. Do you like video games?" She said it the same way a missionary would say "Do you believe in God?"

"Uh...a bit," Soma hedged. "I mean I play them, but I'm not like, a super fan."

"This game came out before any of us were born and it's still one of the greatest stealth-action survival games ever game," the guy said with finality. "It revolutionized the genre. We're lucky to still be able to play it on the original console today."

"The one time all my dad's old junk is useful," the girl agreed. "We had to chain three A/V adapters and replace the power cord, and that was after opening it up to adjust the laser. I hope the input lag's not too bad."

"Yeah, uh, me too," Soma said. Geez. After leaving the castle he thought he was done with weirdos. At least wanting to play old video games was pretty harmless.

"MGS3 -" she said it like that, cramming the syllables together "- set a standard for realistic outdoor environments that wasn't equaled even on the PS4. There are so many animals to find and every single one of them has a unique conversation associated with them."

The guy chimed in "You can kick a crab to death. It's great. Powerful kicks. Powerful crabs."

"And the story! It's amazing what they did in making you really care about the main character just to drop the final plot twist-"

"Don't spoil it!"

"I won't! But it's amazing, take my word for it."

Soma resisted the urge to tell them that he had never heard of the game before and did not care about spoilers. He also had the incredible urge to emphasize that he had a girlfriend. (Or kind of did...he had a nice, normal girl he hung out with a lot, that was close!)

On screen, a naked guy with a bleeding eyesocket talked to a guard about his family before the guard ran off to shit his guts out.

Soma tried to decide if the pair had been serious about what they had literally just said. No one could take this seriously, right? Not with the old graphics and stilted voice acting and a main character who grunted all the time.

Both the guy and girl were watching the screen, rapt.

Soma quietly checked his phone. Mina remained out of contact.

"Here, let me explain," the girl started, and Soma couldn't figure out a way to stop her. The upshot seemed to be something about the US and the Cold War, and a betrayal, and a gun nut caveman who ate anything he could stuff into his mouth was sent in to fix everything and this was charming?

The guy waited around for the girl to finish explaining, then went off on his own. "Here, check this out. This was only available on the original Playstation 2 release, not on any of the ports or anything. It's an entirely different engine they couldn't get to work in the newer versions, so-"

"Hey, look, I'm sure that's cool and all-" Soma started, only to be cut off with a "No, no, this'll only take a minute! Look!"

Onscreen, the primitive 3d models were replaced by a plain background and some numbers. The caveman onscreen grunted about his mouth hurting and wanting a story, and a woman started talking something about a renfield and wind and masters and Soma really couldn't pretend anymore.

"Oh, look at the time! I'm sorry, I gotta go. Your game is cool, though!" Soma stood up in haste and backed away. He'd wait for Mina outside or something. Better than having to keep feigning interest in another gun nut, especially one who didn't even have the decency to pay him.

"But- We're almost to the cool bit!" the girl called out after him.

Soma gave them one last awkward smile and ran away, inwardly vowing to never have anything to do with solid metal gears ever again.

* * *

GET IT

If you don't go play some Metal Gear Solid 3.

Happy birthday, Soma!


	14. Chapter 14

It had taken cutting-edge forecasts, hours of internet research, and a surreptitious visit to a certain weather-seer who demanded a price beyond ordinary men, but he had done it. Graham had found the one place in driving distance that wasn't overcast for the eclipse.

Lodging was no problem. His father's church had adherents through the area, and Graham was happy to provide blessings in return for the best the rubes had to offer. He'd repay them when he ascended to the dark lord's throne - serving him for all eternity was more than enough for the garbage they'd called dinner.

Now he laid on the patchy roof and watched darkness engulf the sun.

His castle was up there; he could feel it calling to him.

Just eighteen more years.


	15. Chapter 15

**Minutes of the 5th meeting of the Joined Order of Concubi, consisting of the Most Elegant Guild of Succubi and the Distinguished Gentleman Incubus.**

 _Conducted by the grace of our dark lord on September 19th, 1457 in the Rose Room._

 **Members:** Alexandrie, Magnus, Zephyrine, Shantelle, Adelaida, Madelaina, Amaranthine, Cassienne, Valerinne, Aulaire, Felixine, Acanthe, Corisande, Sassandra, Diziere, Eliacinthe, Melusine, Carmele, Airelle, Polyxene, Sophronie, Celestie, Zeolide.

 **The Madam:** Alexandrie.

 **Attending:** Lady Lisa

 **Call to order:** 10:00 PM, or as close as possible.

 **Approval of agenda with the following items:**

Training manuals for new concubi.

Discussion of concubi as a term.

Relations with the witches.

Honoring our lovely mistress, the Lady Lisa.

* * *

 **1\. Training Manuals for new concubi**

Felixine raised the issue that many new concubi seem confused about their position and have made many mistakes in invading the dreams of mortals. (examples attached) She suggested a training course, written by their elders, to help alleviate this problem.

Diziere stated that she believed manuals would be alienating to young concubi, as they are sterile and lifeless. She suggested instead a mentoring program, with the young concubus given to an elder sister (crossed out, replaced with "sibling") to guide them. The pair would enter mortal's dreams together and work as a team until the young concubus was ready to strike out on her (crossed out, replaced with "their") own.

Felixine replied that all present were busy, and that two at once was coming on a little strong, wasn't it?

Polyxene said that Felixine was several things that have been stricken from the official record. Felixine replied in kind. Adelaida took Polyxene's side with more stricken remarks. A minor ruckus developed.

The gracious Lady Lisa restored order, and received thanks from Madam Alexandrie.

It was decided that the Joined Order would attempt a mixed approach of some hands-on training, with a manual for later reference. Valerinne, Felixine, and Zephyrine were put in charge of writing the manual. Carmele, Madelaina, Shantelle, and Sassandra volunteered to provide the hands-on training.

 **2\. Discussion of concubi as a term**

Magnus raised the objection that he disagreed with the term "concubus", as the vast majority of the room was succubi and he was, in fact, the only incubus in the castle. He related his feelings that such attempts at a joint order were just play-acting and the Most Elegant Guild could continue on their own for all he cared. (exact words have been stricken from the record)

Madam Alexandrie ordered Magnus to restrain his language. Magnus refused.

Diziere said that if Magnus wished there to be more incubi he could request more at any time. She suggested the reason for the lack of incubi was Magnus himself, and that more incubi would take a load of work off the Most Elegant Guild.

Magnus stated that Diziere's interruptions were unwelcome.

Aulaire indicated support of Diziere's words.

Magnus said that Aulaire would have trouble seducing a fishman, along with other things that have been stricken from the record.

Aulaire, Diziere, and Zephyrine registered objections to Magnus' words.

Madam Alexandrie forcibly restored order. She reminded the assembled concubi that the Joined Order had been agreed upon by both parties, and that a formal renegotiation would have to take place before it could be dissolved. She reminded all present that Joined Order meetings were rare, and it was an honor to attend. She asked if Magnus wished to undergo renegotiation. Magnus did not.

 **3\. Relations with the witches**

It was generally agreed that relations with the witches were strained. Various reasons why were discussed, from the fact that they are all fat cows who need broomsticks to fly to the fact that they think they own the castle and have been blatantly currying untoward favor with Lord Dracula and Lady Lisa.

The Lady Lisa interrupted at this point with a plea to remember that all were creatures of the castle, and should act as brothers and sisters of the night. She stated she believed the Witches' Coven be a valuable part of castle life, and wished for better relations between the witches and the succubi (crossed out, replaced with "concubi", crossed out, replaced with "succubi" in a different hand).

Madam Alexandrie thanked Lady Lisa for her words, and stated that better relations were indeed the goal of all present. She stated the last part very firmly.

Eliacinthe proposed a small dinner between representatives, mediated by a representative of the Fighting Order of Lilliths. Amaranthine seconded, and the motion was carried. A small dinner, with representatives to be decided, was scheduled for October 21st. Eliacinthe was drafted to write the invitation.

 **4\. Honoring our lovely mistress, the Lady Lisa**

As the final item on the agenda, Lady Lisa was honored with a membership in the Most Elegant Guild at the rank of IHetaera/I. Magnus stated that being a Distinguished Gentleman required one to be male, and that was no fault of Lady Lisa, and that he fully supported all honors and would be happy to let her become a Distinguished Gentleman if she ever happened to become male. Lady Lisa accepted these words and honors gracefully.

With the honors, a full uniform was provided to Lady Lisa, in accordance to the rank of IHetaera/I. It was sewn with care, with markings to show Lady Lisa's grace, determination, charm, wit, and excellent breasts. (the last crossed out by an unknown hand, but is still legible)

The meeting broke up for drinks and socialization at 1:00 PM.

No Joined Order meeting is currently planned. The next meeting of the Most Elegant Guild of Succubi is scheduled for December 5th, 1457, at 10:00 PM.


	16. Chapter 16

Hey, this has blood. Be warned.

* * *

The room was exactly how it always was. Clean, quiet, peaceful. A sanctuary from the chaos of the castle. Dracula paced from one edge to the next without rest, his eyes wild and movements frantic.

"How can you ask this of me?" he said to the portrait on the wall, the portrait that gazed at him with the same loving smile it had for the past three hundred years, "How can I do such a thing now? Do you realise what task you have given?"

 _"Do not hate the humans. If you cannot live among them, then at least do them no harm."_

The words echoed in his head as they had from that first moment of numb shock, to the long period of bitter sorrow, to the present of rage and grief.

"If I had known then, yes, perhaps! But now, but now-!" Dracula tore his nails through his hair, heedless of how they caught. "A war cannot be ended so easily! Am I simply to open the gates to them? To send my subjects among them to die? You know their nature, Lisa!" She must know, she must. She must have been watching - and that brought pain, pain that his wife knew of all his sins - she must have seen the humans slaughter them!

"We kill them, yes, but are we simply to lay down and die? To welcome those who would see our blood cover the land? Look at what they did to you! Look at what they do when the castle reappears!" It was impossible. To offer up every one of his subjects as lambs to the slaughter was too much. He could not make martyrs of every bat and skeleton. Did they not have the right to defend themselves?

Dracula faced the portrait, fangs bared. "To hell with kindness! I owe nothing to those vile creatures! It is _they_ who must seek peace if this is to end!"

 _"Then, was your love false?"_

Dracula stopped, stunned. Lisa would not say that...would she? No, she would. It was deserved. That he could hear it in her voice, an echo across all the centuries, was proof enough.

His love was not false. He had sworn, and for all his son's grand words, he kept that love in his heart. It was all he had.

But to give up his hatred? To allow every would-be hunter to storm the castle with no resistance? To never raise his hand against a human again?

"My love was never false, Lisa. I swear it." Dracula resumed his pacing, back and forth and back and forth. "But you saw good in the worst of men, and it killed you. Am I to forget that?" He stopped, winced. "Yes, the worst of men...like one who sacrificed his very humanity for a grudge."

 _"Do not hate the humans."_

"But it is they who kill and plunder with abandon! It is _they_ who would do us harm! It is _they_ who even turn against themselves! Surely you have seen this, Lisa!" He resumed pacing with even greater energy. He drowned under guilt's terrible wave, and the familiar fire of rage rose so easily to meet it. "They did it before I was born, they do it when I am dead, they will continue until Doomsday! They must be broken and driven back!" His voice turned pleading and he hated that it did. "You would ask me to embrace those who would kill us. We cannot coexist with that."

 _"At least do them no harm."_

Dracula felt his dead heart would wrench its way out of his chest. It could not hurt so, it was dead. It had been dead for seven hundred years. Pain built up behind his eyes, his breath shortened, and he could not decide if he wished to rend his enemies' flesh from their bones or bury himself so deeply he could never again be found.

Neither option was available. He pounded his fist against the stone wall until it oozed blood from a heart that did not beat. "But we must fight!" he raved, again and again.

"What am I to do, Lisa? Tell me!" If she had asked for the moon, or the stars, or teeth from the great dragon that guarded the golden tree that grew beyond the world's horizon he would have gotten them all for her and gladly. If she had asked him to smile, or make her any kind of potion, or to turn into a wolf for her to ride, he would have obeyed without question. If she had asked for his heart, bright and bloody, to eat for dinner -

Dracula clawed with frantic abandon before he realised what he did, and when he did understand he could not stop. His hands moved on their own, obeying their own desperate compulsion, until his clothes hung in rags and his flesh in tatters.

A few drops of blood fell to the floor. He looked at the cool white bone surrounded by strips bright red flesh with a strange focus. It was his ribcage laid bare, as if opened for an anatomical demonstration. It hurt. It hurt in a great spear of agony that pinned him to that moment like paper on a spike.

It was good. He could think again.

He tore a strip of flesh clean and presented it to the portrait with bloody hands. If he could not give Lisa the peace she so desired, he could at least offer her his pain.

He knew well it was not enough. He could grind his bones to dust and it would not be enough. There was not enough blood in the world to pay for this failure.

Dracula knelt there, silent. He could neither go forward nor back. He had tied himself too tightly to the wheel to free himself from the endless cycle, and every attempt to destroy Leon's cursed family had failed. Were they truly fated to repeat this battle until Doomsday?

"Would it have been better to drink that poison while I was still a man?" He had thought of it often, back then. So much had faded, but he remembered that year of endless days, watching the sun rise and fall and wondering if that day was the day he would rise and brew his own end. And he had, but not to a rest. Merely to more toil. "You would have lived as a human, never coming to the castle...would you have been happier like that?"

 _"She would love you for all eternity."_

Could that still be true? He wished for it to be true, but Dracula knew well the value of wishes. He had seen eternity, and it was filled with pain. God would allow no breaking of chains Dracula had forged to spite Him.

No...that was not quite true. There had been a prophecy. Dracula had seen too many false prophets to believe in such convenient words anymore, but now it seemed to be the last light in the darkness.

 _"In 1999, Dracula will be destroyed forever."_

1999\. 202 years away. Two more turns of the wheel. Just two more.

It was a foolish hope, but if he could simply wait out his remaining time...then he could face the promised final battle. And if it proved true...

This, this was something he could offer Lisa. This was what she had wanted, this would make her happy, this would clear away his sin. And he would not even have to sacrifice the castle's honor. The dance still needed a partner and he would faithfully play his part, but only to his end. No further.

The Belmonts would have their great villain. They would have their glorious battle. Light and dark would clash in one final struggle, and then he could rest. They could all rest.

Slowly, with great pain, Dracula rose to his feet, swaying as if he was drunk. "Lisa," he took one halting step forward, then another, "Lisa, watch us. We will fight the last battle and we will die, my beloved. You may have the peace you wish, I promise you, for I will build it out of the corpses of every one of my creatures." He could promise even the smallest ghost a fine death in furious struggle against the Belmont. They would not die cowering in fear but on their feet, as proud creatures of the night.

He reached out to the portrait, his bloody hand wavering in the air. "Does this not prove my love? I will grant your dying wish. We will die, Lisa, and we will die gloriously! Then, then..." His strength failed him and he sank again to his knees, staring at the ruin he had made of himself.

The portrait smiled lovingly at him.


End file.
